


if you fall asleep it wouldn't be the worst thing

by imperfectandchaotic



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen, speculation fic, these two are probably best dark and angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectandchaotic/pseuds/imperfectandchaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though she's never spoken of it, Caroline supposes this is what Elena must have felt watching Damon deteriorate, dying right before her eyes. How is she supposed to move on from this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you fall asleep it wouldn't be the worst thing

**Author's Note:**

> witness the beginning of my klaroline love affair.

When Elena says "Esther is going to kill them all," it doesn't even sound real. Caroline actually finds herself staring at her best friend and wondering, of all things, how Klaus is adjusting to having his mother back. But then it sinks in. Her stomach drops. What is it with Mystic Falls and its inability to hang onto at least one functioning family?

A cynical part of her brain (that must have appeared during the transformation into the undead) reminds her that this is Mystic Falls: home of vampires, werewolves, witches and hybrids alike. Surely something as normal as family shouldn't be able to exist here, of all places.

And yet somehow it is something that they all crave, that they all had once, a fundamental piece of their lives that shattered and left different people behind in wake of their loss; sometimes Caroline cannot fathom the depth of the chasm between the Salvatore brothers; if she had a sibling, a vampire sibling to live through this sometimes wretched and now infinite life with, she'd latch on and never let go.

Then she remembers how they both look at Elena, (Caroline never quite bought the whole  _unemotional, unaffected_  Stefan. He cares too deeply for that) as though she is the sun and the stars and the very magnetic pole that keeps their world turning and steady—and then well, and then Caroline thinks she can sort of understand.

But this…

This she will never be able to comprehend.

Caroline isn't sure what it means when Elena simply slips from her front porch without another word. There is no demand for an explanation in regards to Klaus and his strange, sudden affinity for her, no rail against Damon for sleeping with Rebekah (the mental image will never be able to be burned out) no questions as to what is going to happen when the source of all their suffering will be gone forevermore.

It's only when she closes the door that Caroline realizes that she's shaking.

_x_

When he appears before her, she pretends she hasn't been pacing for God knows how long, trying to figure out if she should give in to this intense, visceral urge to flit out into the night and find him.

Though she's never spoken of it, Caroline supposes this is what Elena must have felt watching Damon deteriorate, dying right before her eyes.

How is she supposed to move on from this?

Klaus is leaning on the doorframe of her room in visible need of its support. Their eyes meet, and something strikes hot and painful (will it ever go away? she wonders, this awful, broken sadness?) deep into her chest, until she thinks it must have touched her soul.

"Good evening," he says, intoning in nearly that exact way he had three nights ago.

Caroline does not know whether to laugh or cry. Perhaps she'll die instead.

_x_

She has a million questions it seems, fighting for spoken right inside her head. _Are you—is Esther really going to—Where are your sibl—What are you doing—_

But Caroline cannot ask why. Rather, she should not ask why. She knows the answer.

_Why?_

It still begins to fill her up, pushing all other thoughts aside.

**_Why?_ **

And then one sucks up all the noise and leaves a crippling silence behind.

How can a mother hate her children so that she would kill them all?

_x_

After at least a minute, Caroline realizes they've just been standing in silence, staring at each other.

"Do you, um, do you want to come in?"

There is no more sass left in her.

Klaus smiles, but it's nowhere near that self-assured suave grin she has come to know. This is unnerving for several reasons Caroline does not want to explain. He crosses the room, looking pained, but Caroline can't see any injuries; what has his mother done to them? It's all she can do when he stumbles to wrap an arm around his waist and steady them both.

They ease onto the foot of the bed and both pretend he doesn't need her help.

"Do you want—do you need anything?"

As she tries in vain to remember if there are any blood bags left in the fridge, he looks at her, really looks, for the first time.

"No, thank you love."

Perhaps there's no point to it now. Caroline is strangely curious if the endearment is ingrained habit or if it actually means anything, and then pushes the thought out as hard as she can.

"Does it...does it hurt?"

His eyes dart away. Something dark clouds his expression.

"Yes."

 _Stupid,_  she chides herself.  _Of course it does_.

"Where are—?"

"Gone," he says, before she can get the whole question out. Klaus sounds so very  _sad,_  and it seems to have very little to do with what looks like an extremely imminent second death. He sounds broken.

"I am, of course, to blame for this. They have banished me."

"You're not," Caroline blurts, compelled to say it even though she knows he's partly right. "I'm sure all your brothers and Rebekah have done enough to deserve this in their own right." She's not sure how this is supposed to be comforting in the least, but the corner of Klaus's mouth lifts just the slightest bit.

Her heart hurts.

It shouldn't. It doesn't even really beat anymore, not really, and Caroline should really be thinking about all of the evil everyone in Mystic Falls has suffered through thanks to Klaus, but at the moment all she feels is an overpowering pity. Her eyes keep being pulled over Klaus's head to the drawing he'd given her, standing on her dresser with all those birthday cards.

Caroline Forbes is probably too compassionate to be a vampire.

Too bad no one informed Katherine.

_x_

She doesn't ask Klaus then why he's here, sitting on her bed and doing nothing to slow the passage of time. He doesn't want to be alone, that much she can decipher, that much she can comprehend, because if she's being perfectly honest, for all of Elena's attempts at salvaging their lives, their friendship has pretty much fallen to the wayside.

Caroline wonders fleetingly what everyone would think if they could see her now.

"Not Elijah," Klaus says suddenly, softly. It strikes Caroline then that he is over a thousand years old; millions of lifetimes have ebbed and flowed and he has simply lived on, trying to hold onto the only people able to stand by him.

"Elijah has done nothing but believe in me, and I have failed him."

Even in the warm light of her room, Klaus's face looks pale and drawn. The most morbid part of her brain is trying to calculate the amount of time he has left.

"I'm sorry." It seems like the right thing to say. They lock eyes again (even though all Caroline wants to do is avoid the pain and anger and regret radiating from this—man before her) and her breath catches. His eyes are full of tears.

_Oh God._

Oh right. Caroline doesn't believe in God anymore.

That hollow where her heart is supposed to be aches; all she can register is loss: loss of her life, her friends, her family, loss of the person she would have been, and in this one moment it doesn't matter that Klaus is a possibly psychotic vampire/werewolf hybrid capable of ripping out her useless heart, that he signed the seal on her death once, that she should, does  _hate him_ , down in that dark, angry, vengeful part of herself that she tries so hard to ignore.

Because Klaus is about to die and all Caroline knows is that she is going to lose this human in him that perhaps no one else has ever seen—and there is nothing she can do to stop it, other than to throw herself at Klaus, gathering him up in her arms (with the distinct feeling that this is what it means to be a mother to a despairing child, and here is yet another thing she has lost in her victory against time and death) with enough force to pull them back onto the mattress.

Klaus falls with her. His tears are hot against her collarbone. He curls around Caroline like she used to do with her father, way back when, and the thought threatens to drown her. Her fingers rake through Klaus's hair, slowly, evenly; it is another small measure of comfort that her dad used to give her. It proved that he loved her and now it's the least she can give this shell of a boy whose father never did.

"I'm here, I'm right here." Caroline just keeps saying it, soft and low until her voice cracks because she will not let him forget.

She will not allow him to be alone.

Klaus's breath is becoming harsh and rasping against her throat. His body is tight like a coiled spring against hers. She's not sure when it happened but his hand over hers constricts and all she wants to do is take away this horrifying pain.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, you'll be okay."

"Why are you doing this?"

She almost doesn't hear him. When Caroline looks at Klaus she is somewhat stunned at the genuine confusion behind the haze in his eyes.

"Rome, Paris, and Tokyo, right?"

She honestly has no idea where these words are coming from but she can't afford to doubt them. Not now. Not on the edge of this.

"I never thought of going," Caroline tells him. "Not until you...I—I owe you this much, at least."

Klaus looks as though he's going to laugh. Right this second. "You owe me nothing." It's feeble. They're running out of time.

Why couldn't they have had this conversation standing up? Breathing normally probably would have been easier. There is a burning in Caroline's throat that has nothing to do with hunger.

"I would have died if it weren't for you."

Klaus smiles. It's somehow bright in spite of absolutely everything and that lump in her throat becomes real tears in her eyes and  _this is it_. Caroline can only hope that a thousand years from now that the memory of this night will pass from storm to waves simply falling in with the tide.

Because right now it hurts so damn much.

"So full of light," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I knew you were worth the trouble."

The tiny burst of laughter is painful and entirely involuntary. Caroline is so very tired. Klaus smiles again and his hand is warm and solid in hers. He closes his eyes. He exhales. She lets the most rebellious of tears fall.

And then,

And then,

_x_

When she wakes up, there is nothing but two words in a familiar hand and the faint feeling of something, like a phantom kiss, on the crown of her head.

_Thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> I am cross-posting years worth of fic and my delena stuff is kinda terrible so let's leave that out shall we?
> 
> yay for ambiguous endings!


End file.
